Compulsion is
the fictionalized account of the crime of the century—the kidnapping and murder
of a young boy by two bored and wealthy young geniuses—which led to the trial
of the century in which one of the most famous attorneys ever argued for their
lives. This is the film version of that book, which came out in 1959, the year
after Nathan Leopold (aka Judd Steiner) was paroled and released from prison.

Having
recently acquired an interest in Leopold and Loeb, and having read and reviewed
the book Compulsion, it seemed only
natural that I should watch and review the film with a critical eye toward
seeing how well the book was translated onto the screen. I must say it was done
very well.

We first
meet Judd Steiner (Dean Stockwell) and Artie Straus (Bradford Dillman) as they
are

gallivanting about in Judd’s Stutz Bearcat and Artie tries to run down a
drunken man who’s walking down the road. This sets the tone, not only for the
film, but for their relationship. Judd grabs the wheel and averts the potential
murder, so Artie tells him to drive (keep in mind, it is Judd’s car), and then orders him to run the bum down. Judd comes
close, but at the last moment swerves, which angers Artie. To keep peace, Judd
swears he’ll do anything Artie wants. Anything.
And although we don’t know it yet, a murder is about to be born.

Martin
Milner (later famed for his role in Adam 12, among other things) plays Sid
Brooks (a fictional character, based on Meyer Levin), a fellow student at the
university with Judd and Artie, and a fledgling reporter for the newspaper.
Chance involves him in the case, and also his girl Ruth, who develops a
relationship with Judd and later testifies at the trial.

This is a
very faithful adaptation of the novel and captures the flavor of it very well.
The cocksure attitude of the young geniuses who took the life of a young boy
because they could, and to prove that such a thing could be done with great
deliberation and no emotional involvement. We never see the victim, not even in
the morgue, nor do we get a real sense of who he was. These things were not
shown back then, too graphic. Today, I’m sure there would be a lot more
gruesome scenes, but the film does not suffer for lack of them.

They came
close to getting away with their crime, but a pair of eyeglasses was the crack
in the facade that became the first clue, and that ultimately led to them. E.G.
Marshall plays the prosecutor, Horn, who is determined to see these two boys
hang for what they’ve done, despite their tender ages—18 and 19—and despite the
fact that never has the state put to death anyone below the age of 21.

The boys’
very wealthy parents hire the best attorney they can find—Jonathan Wilk (Clarence

Darrow, in real life)—flawlessly played by Orson Welles. In a brilliant ploy,
Wilk withdraws their plea of not guilty and changes it to guilty, with
mitigating circumstances, thus eliminating the trial by jury. And despite the
best efforts of the prosecutor, he does not plead insanity, as that would bring
the jury back in. And as he explains to the boys’ parents, he’d rather plead
for their lives before one man, the judge, than twelve, in the form of the
jury.

Welles’
performance is riveting. Despite being very familiar with him as an actor, his
persona disappears and he becomes Wilk/Darrow, and his very eloquent summation
speech is some of his finest work. That is the hallmark of a great actor, when
you stop seeing the man, and only see the character.

Although
physically I thought the main characters were mis-cast, as Dean Stockwell
resembled Artie more, and Bradford Dillman Judd, in terms of performance, they
got the nuances of the characters down pat. Artie, the effervescent know-it-all
who dominates Judd, and has to be in on everything, including “helping” the
police with the case. The quieter, more introspective Judd, who allows Artie to
control him.

What you
won’t see in the movie that isin the book, and what is barely hinted at in the
film (and you really need to be looking for it to catch it) is the true nature
of the relationship between Judd and Artie, namely that they were lovers. Any
mention of what the book presents has been excised, probably due to the
sensibilities of the times. I don’t think it would have played well, and
probably would have muddied the waters. Today? Another story altogether.

One
comment on the opening music—although probably good for its time, now it
sounded to me very 50ish and jarring, but perhaps that was the effect the
composer was going for. It’s jazzy and discordant, so maybe that’s the right
feel for two young men out of step with society.

Look for
Richard Anderson (Six Million Dollar Man) as Judd’s bossy older brother Max.
And a young Gavin MacLeod (Captain Steubing on the Love Boat) as Horn’s
assistant.

Also on
the DVD were the theatrical trailer and a teaser and two trailers from other
Fox films—St. Valentine’s Day Massacre (Jason Robards Jr) and Murder Inc.
(Stuart Whitman and Peter Falk).

One last
comment on the film. As I said before, Judd was just beginning a relationship
with Ruth Evans, who was Sid Brooks’ girl, and I think that goes a long way to
show his innate humanity, as opposed to Artie and his black book, his love ’em
and leave ’em philosophy. There is a very intense scene between Judd and Ruth
in the film.

On the
whole, I was very pleased with the film, and highly recommend it.

2 comments:

I agree with you. I saw this film and found it shocking and disturbing, mostly because these events actually happened. Even with the changes made, it is, as I understand it, close to the truth. I am never failed to be amazed by the arrogance, egotism and entitlement felt by the two killers, especially Artie.

Of the two, Artie was the less sympathetic. I was drawn to Judd/Nathan. I think part of their problem was their emotional development was not as great as their intellectual - they were kids who really didn't know what they were doing. At least not Judd. I believe he went on to redeem himself in prison, while Loeb was killed there by another inmate. I think Nathan loved Dick for the rest of his love. How tragic.